


Forgiveness

by parttimefemmefatale (writingramblr)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Confessional Sex, Don't Judge Me, Episode AU: s03e08-09 Human Nature/Family of Blood, F/M, Fobwatch, Fobwatched Doctor, Human Doctor (Doctor Who), I'm Going to Hell, Priest Kink, Priest!AU, Shameless Smut, bless me for I have sinned, catholics will not like, confession is good for the soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/parttimefemmefatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dangerous situation leads to the Eighth Doctor and his companion Rose Tyler having to go into hiding. Unfortunately, the Doctor cannot remain himself, he must become human to remain undetected by his oldest enemy.</p><p> </p><p>[Alternate title: Bless Me Father For I have Sinned.<br/>And obvious Warning: Some content may offend religious peoples]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LicieOIC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/gifts), [callistawolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/gifts), [aeonish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonish/gifts), [lunarsilverwolfstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsilverwolfstar/gifts), [larxenethefirefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larxenethefirefly/gifts), [Endelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endelda/gifts), [fogsblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue/gifts), [Kelkat9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/gifts).



> i blame all you girls in the Doctor/Rose chat room for most of this....  
> and please let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged!

The Doctor stopped Rose Tyler in her tracks, taking her face between his hands, cradling her cheeks beneath his palms, gently but firmly forcing her to look into his eyes.

They were wide with fear, and he knew she was confused, but he had to make absolutely certain.

“Did he see you?”

Hazel orbs locked with his, and she shook her head, slightly confined by his hold.

“Are you sure?”

A nod.

“Alright. Well there’s only one thing to do. He doesn’t know what I look like, but he will be able to follow us through time if we don’t pick somewhere to land. It won’t be safe to travel for at least a couple months.”

Rose frowned,

“What do you mean? A place to land?”

The Doctor nodded, his long hair falling into his eyes, but he brushed it back impatiently. He’d let go of Rose almost the instant he was sure she was right. They’d not been seen. But they’d been sensed. He’d spotted the Master almost too late, and they’d taken off for the TARDIS at full tilt speed. He’d not seen his oldest enemy since his last regeneration so they had a prayer of an advantage. A whisper of a chance.

But having been sensed was nearly as bad as being seen.

“We need to hide.”

Rose looked as frightened as he felt, but he remained calm, he had to, for her sake.

“Hide?”

Her voice only shook slightly, and he gave her a brief smile,

“Yes. But I promise, no harm will come to you. Look now, step over there, the Chameleon arch is descending.”

Rose did as he asked, and watched curiously as a large metal dome slid down from the ceiling. When the Doctor moved to stand under it, she felt a strange prickle of fear crawl down her spine.

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

The Doctor looked at her one last time, with his soft blue eyes, and nodded.

“Trust me.”

***

They’d been the Doctor’s last words.

Rose could have screamed in frustration if she’d not been afraid of the strange looks she might get.

The Doctor had been transformed beneath that metal dome, and when the bright light had vanished, and the Doctor had fallen down, unconscious, Rose had been half scared to death.

She’d rushed to his side, brushed back a stray brown lock of hair from his face, and checked his pulse.

He was still alive. Naturally. She’d not been prepared to believe otherwise. But when she pressed her head to his chest, she could only hear one heart beating.

One heart!

The Doctor was no longer himself.

When the Hologram switched on at the tiniest bump to the console, Rose nearly jumped a foot in the air. It was the Doctor’s face, and voice assuring her everything would be alright. But why couldn’t he have told her this in person?

She realized he must have had to do this sort of thing before, as the way he spoke was in general, and not directed precisely to her.

He was now a human, or at least as much human as he could be. She was now in charge of helping him fit into his new temporary life.

What it was, she had no idea. Stumbling down the hallway to the wardrobe room, she quickly found out.

The TARDIS was ever so helpful, even if she was a bit cheeky.

Hanging right in front, clearly meant for the Doctor was a pair of black slacks, a tan undershirt, and a black robe.

A white collar was clipped to the robe, and Rose gulped when she figured out what it was for.

Glancing behind the hanger she saw a light pink dress, with small yellow embroidered flowers. It was quite long, and looked frightfully old fashioned.

Around the neck of the hanger hung a golden locket, and Rose could swear she heard singing emanating from it.

She picked it up and cradled it in her palm; it was warm, and seemed to call out to her. She shrugged, if that was the only jewelry the TARDIS had selected for her, she’d take it.

When she returned to the console room, and the unconscious Doctor, now humanized, she realized she’d need to change his outfit.

Part of her was terrified by the idea, the violation of his privacy, but another part of her, a deep dark piece was secretly thrilled. She wouldn’t be changing every single article of course, no need to completely embarrass herself and demolish his dignity, but she couldn’t deny she was looking forward to seeing just how muscular his chest was beneath that green velvet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only loosely follows the idea of the fobwatched!doctor, and hardly follows the original plot of the HN/FoB episodes.


	2. Chapter 2

Rose smoothed her hands over her long skirt, and tried not to grimace at the heat. The time period the Doctor had landed them in to hide was much too far back in time for her liking, and it meant long dresses, and prim and proper hair styles.

Every morning Rose looked in the mirror and made a face at herself. It was only to keep herself sane. Her current occupation was shockingly close to what her original job had been. Shopgirl. Except this time she worked in a fabric and feed store. They sold everything from birdseed to hunting supplies, and she was quite sick of things.

Her only retreat was possibly the worst.

Visiting the Doctor.

Except here he wasn’t ‘the Doctor,’ or even ‘A Doctor.’ No.

He was the head clergyman.

A bloody priest.

Not a saint.

Rose felt like kicking the TARDIS every time she went back to watch the message from the Doctor, but she refrained. Only just.

Her following visit to the confessional that week would be the third in a row. She wasn’t quite sure what she would say.

Last time she’d confessed to lying about how much she hated her mother, and how she was glad her father was gone, she’d mustered up some real tears to sell that one, and he’d just told her to say a couple Hail Mary’s and ‘be blessed my child.’

Rose huffed out an angry breath.

Oh sure. That was easy for him to say. Just because he didn’t know her didn’t mean she could pretend quite as easily not to know him.

Especially when she had to sit opposite him, and listen to him speaking words of encouragement in that _voice_ of his.

She shivered as she thought about it, despite the warmth of the afternoon sunshine.

She fingered the golden locket around her neck, and swore she heard it say her name.

It only made her walk faster to the church.

***

Father Smith had not slept well. He always tried to keep his head clear of any thoughts that could be viewed as impure in the sight of God. But somehow his subconscious thrived on disobeying him.

On the edge of every dream he’d had for the last week, there had been a mysterious golden haired girl, always flitting in and out of his reach. Not that he would want to reach her. He feared what his dream self wanted to actually reach her for. He’d taken his vows, and forsaken all worldly temptations. But this girl made him feel far from the man of God he knew he was.

He said a prayer for strength, and went to the confessional booth, where he’d been told he had a parishioner waiting.

When he sat opposite the screen, he folded his hands together, and willed his heart to calm down. Dwelling on dreams of the flesh would not help him perform his work.

“Good morning. Please begin whenever you are ready.”

He closed his eyes, as it always had helped him focus in the past, and was startled to hear a soft feminine voice answer him.

If he hadn’t known better, he’d swear the voice had come directly from his dream.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

“Tell me your sins, my child.”

“I lied about my true age, to procure my employment. But if I had not, I would still be starving in the street, or worse, have had to seek other employment.”

Father Smith wasn’t sure, but he could almost swear he didn’t hear an ounce of contrition in the woman’s voice.

The implication was perfectly obvious, and he cleared his throat before replying.

“Do you feel remorse for what you have done?”

“Yes father. I’m very sorry.”

He nodded, before remembering as always, that he could not really be seen,

“Say three hail Mary’s, and a lord’s prayer.”

“Yes father.”

“I forgive you. Go and be blessed my child.”

“Thank you father. I will.”

The door to the booth closed with a thud, and Father Smith realized he’d nearly dozed off, hypnotized as he’d been by the woman’s voice.

Surely he needed to say a lord’s prayer himself for even daring to think such thoughts? His dreams were not supposed to torture him like this, day in and day out. He decided then and there to note them in a journal, and attempt to purge all thoughts and memories from his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose’s fists were tightly squeezed together beneath her skirts as she walked away from the church. Today he’d been extremely short with her. Clearly her sins were not severe enough to warrant any real attention.

She’d also lied to him again right then and there, for she’d not felt a single ounce of remorse. She’d not really wasted time lying for her job; it had been already set up. She had the TARDIS to thank for that. The shop had been hiring, and she’d been in the right place at the right time.

All perfectly convenient.

The shop master had been kind enough, and if Rose didn’t know any better, she’d say he’d even been flirting with her.

But she didn’t really have the time for that. Skinny blokes with light brown hair didn’t do it for her.

She had needed to hear the Doctor’s voice. His real voice, not just the pathetic hologram she’d already listened to a half dozen times.

Even though she was separated from him by the paper thin partition, she still swore she felt the resonance of his voice through the wall.

It was perfectly ridiculous how fast her feelings for the Doctor had advanced long past admiration and trust. Oh she trusted him alright. Trusted him to drive her mad with want.

With need.

That cursed locket did more than whisper to her; she knew it was most certainly possessed by the Doctor’s darkest soul.

The truth was it contained his essence. The Time Lord soul. Never mind the fact he called it just his ‘consciousness.’

The moment she opened it, the Doctor would cease being human, and become himself again. But it wasn’t yet time.

His hologram had assured her she would know when the time was right, but she wasn’t completely convinced.

She had frowned at the console, and asked

“And how am I supposed to know when that is?”

According to the hologram, the locket would speak to her and tell her to open it.

Rose had thrown up her hands in frustration.

“Well that’s just bloody perfect. I’ll be waiting to hear your disembodied voice coming from the necklace telling me ‘that the time is right.’”

Though it mostly spoke in hushed tones, at night, the locket would invade her dreams. The feelings that she now had for the Doctor, or at least, his human identity were most ungodly.

She dreamt of meeting him in the console room, despite the fact he was most definitely not the Doctor _in_ said console room, she would encounter him whilst returning from the library. He’d be slightly damp, as if he’d just emerged from the shower, and would be only clad in a simple fluffy white towel, cinched tightly around his waist. His long brown waves were just barely starting to dry, and much curlier than usual. Her fingers had twitched with the urge to organize them against his forehead.

Rose shivered as her memories of the previous night’s dream began to flicker to the forefront of her mind.

The Doctor had walked around the console, spotted her, and waved in an infuriatingly cheerful manner, despite her obvious state of frustration.

Then of course, something had distracted him, and he’d leapt towards the console, towel becoming snagged on the way.

But even as the fluffy white gave way to intoxicatingly bare skin, she had blinked, and found herself staring at the boring beige ceiling of her bedroom.

She’d slammed her fists onto the bed, fisting the comforter and fighting the urge to scream into her pillow. Then again, she’d already screamed into it a couple nights before. What more could she do?

The dream had ended in precisely the wrong instant. A moment sooner, and she wouldn’t have been quite so insane with want. A moment later, and things would have been much worse. She fantasized about bursting in on the Doctor in his office, or whatever they called it for a priest of his vocation, and pouncing on him.

How improper.

They’d probably put her away in a padded cell for that. Or burn her at the stake.

Neither appealed very highly.

She could be patient.

She would wait.

In the meantime, she’d need to think of a few more creative sins to spring on him.

Her mouth curved into a smile as her mind wandered. The locket felt hot against her skin as her thoughts turned back to her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record, the towel clad doctor was NOT inspired by 11 in the Lodger, it was actually a separate real life dream i had involving Paul McGann, and well, i couldn't help but use it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Encounter outside the Confessional...

Father Smith awoke in a frightened state. He’d been dreaming of the golden haired girl again, but this time, she’d been in peril and he’d had to rescue her, but at great cost. He’d been forced to erase his own mind. How exactly he’d done this, he wasn’t sure. But in dreams, nothing made sense. All her could really remember upon waking was how afraid he’d been to lose her. For with his mind went all his knowledge of her. In the ultimate paradox, she was still imprinted into his consciousness.

Father Smith shook himself, and went to prepare for the day. Once he’d finished breaking his fast and gotten dressed, he sat down at his desk with his remaining few minutes and jotted down all he could remember from the dream. The journal he kept was beginning to be filled with fantastical thoughts, and not nearly as much exposition on verses like he had planned.

To his utmost surprise, and strangely subconscious delight, he already had a parishioner, and when he sat down in the confessional, daring to peer through the screen, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of spun gold.

“Good morning.”

“Father forgive me, for I have sinned.”

The voice was familiar. It had to be the same girl from last week.

Father Smith smiled, even though she could not see him, he hoped he could at least sound comforting,

“Tell me your sins.”

“Last night I snuck out from my guardian’s home.”

Father Smith frowned and steepled his fingers before leaning down to rest his head on his hands, listening intently to the girl,

“I see.”

It was times like these he wished he could do more than speak to the confessors. Sometimes he almost thought they could use a hand to hold, however a fruitless gesture that might be.

“I wanted to see the stars, but by the time they come out, I’m not usually allowed outside.”

“So you disobeyed your guardian’s wishes. Is that all?”

His own question surprised him. As if he was encouraging her to sin more, just to be able to talk with her longer. But this was not talking. This was a priest offering to do God’s work.

At least that’s what he tried to think.

“No. I also showed up late to work because I stayed out stargazing so long. I overslept. But I lied, and said that I had been taking care of my guardian, who was ill.”

Father Smith sighed, and shook his head,

“Recite the Lord’s Prayer and say five Hail Mary’s. Go and be blessed.”

“Thank you Father.”

He found himself wondering why she would have snuck out to look at the stars. That had to be the most innocent of reasons to be wandering out at the witching hour he’d ever heard.

He’d heard a slight bit of longing in her voice, as if she wished she could have stayed out all night looking to the heavens, and perhaps she was right, in some ways. He’d often found himself doing the same. After a particularly taxing dream, whether from fear or worse, dangerously impure thoughts, he would move to gaze out his small window, and stare until he grew tired again.

Despite the impropriety of it, he found himself fighting back the urge to wonder when she would return. Without knowing much about her, it seemed like she was not the usual sort of girl in the small town. She might simply be going through a rebellious phase, but perhaps it was more than that.

He’d never believed many ridiculous notions about possession, and the girl was far too calm and complacent for that line of thinking.

***

Rose huffed impatiently, waiting for her boss to step aside. He was restocking the candles just beside where she needed to walk past.

Some days she found herself wishing she didn’t need to work, or thinking she could simply ask for a leave of absence and go stay in the TARDIS. But she wasn’t sure of what sort of reception she would receive from that plan. The TARDIS was meddlesome enough as it was, Rose did not want to agitate her into doing something worse.

When the bell chimed above the door, Rose glanced over to see who’d entered the shop, barely containing a gasp when she recognized the Doctor.

Impeccably dressed, in a different set of robe and slacks she’d had to sort him into that first day, he looked far more at peace and at ease than the Doctor ever had. Oh she never would have thought of him as overexcited or eager, but the Doctor had never been able to sit still. The Doctor as a priest did quite a lot of sitting still.

She smirked to herself, and made no point to hide how much she was watching him. She was extremely grateful to whatever cause that had brought him to the shop.

When he caught sight of her, and began heading towards her, she suddenly felt her mouth go dry. Would he know her if she spoke?

Just how much could be seen through that confessional screen?

 

His gaze flickered behind her, to where the shop master still stood, straightening candles, and he smiled.

“Just what I was looking for.”

Rose gulped and jerked her head towards the shelving,

“You need candles, Father?”

The Doctor’s eyes returned to her, and he gave no sign that he knew her, other than a slight widening of those blue orbs.

“Ah, yes please. An even dozen if you will.”

Rose’s tongue slipped out to moisten her lips, and she nodded.

“Of course. Harry will package them up for you. How will you be paying?”

An elbow in her side made her wince, and the shop master and her boss, Harry, gave her a look, before the Doctor spoke,

“It would go on the church’s monthly stipend, naturally.”

Rose fought the urge to punch her boss and smiled tightly,

“Certainly Father.”

The Doctor was fingering his collar, and she wondered if she made him nervous.

She’d noticed how his eyes had slipped down to her lips when she had licked them.

He looked well enough, even if there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, as if he'd not been sleeping.

His long brown curls were brushed out of his face, but not held back by anything, so she wondered if when he walked out in the wind they went wild. She’d secretly fantasized about how wonderful it would be to run her hands through his hair, and tousle it to her delight. She struggled to keep her face calm, and made a mental note to recall those thoughts before turning in that night.

Despite wearing mostly all black, he was still extremely handsome. Nothing could change that. Rose hoped he'd not don the moss colored Velvet again. The next time she visited the TARDIS, she would ensure his old jacket was hidden well away. Dark plum would be better suited to his skin tone.

Or perhaps sky blue. To bring out his eyes.

Rose sighed dreamily before she realized he'd spoken to her,

"I'm sorry?"

The Doctor looked sympathetic, 

"I asked you if your guardian was feeling better. Shall I pray for them?"

Rose glanced at Harry before returning to the Doctor.

"Oh… ah, yes. Please do."

She winked at him, and she swore she saw a hint of pink on his cheekbones. 

"It will be done my child. Have a blessed day."

He was out the door before Rose could form a reply and Harry was at her shoulder, 

"What was that about? You don't have a guardian. Do you? I thought you resided alone?"

Rose sighed, 

"It's just a little joke. A misunderstanding."

Harry frowned,

"A joke shared with a priest? What sort of nonsense..." He trailed off and walked away, looking strangely thoughtful.

Rose hummed to herself the rest of the day, breezing through her duties. She knew the next time she saw the Doctor she couldn't be nearly as casual and borderline flirtatious. 

She decided she would pay a visit to the TARDIS before she returned to her small flat.

It wasn't hard to sneak around the small town, and slip into the small forest unnoticed. She pulled the key out from under her dress, for she'd attached it to the same chain the golden locket hung upon.

The front door opened with a satisfying snap and Rose ducked inside, a grin spreading over her face. It still felt more like home to her than anywhere else on the earth.

She'd only been able to find the TARDIS because she'd caught a glimpse of a shimmer against the tree it was parked beside. The moonlight had helped guide her way, and she was relieved to find the perception filter had been doing its job.

No one had disturbed the time and space ship.

Rose walked around the console and couldn't resist stroking the few controls she knew. A gentle hum reverberated throughout the room and she smiled.

"Hello there. I promise I'm taking care of him. Although you've made it rather difficult."

The lights blinked in a most blasé manner and Rose fought the urge to roll her eyes. The ship knew exactly what she was doing.

Rose moved into the library and picked out a book, one that would keep her amused for the next day or so. She wanted to stick around and start it there, but she was afraid of falling asleep in such a comforting space. If she did, that would leave the Doctor foolishly vulnerable. 

She sighed, before leaving, she gave one last longing glance around the ship, and then she was out the front doors, locking it carefully. 

"See you round." She murmured quietly, as she ambled back to town, book clutched tightly beneath her arm.


	5. Chapter 5

Father Smith slept fitfully that night, but awoke again in agitation, this time soaked to the skin with sweat, and a most impure vision still lingering in his mind’s eye.

He would have sworn under his breath and run to get under a cold shower if he'd been any other man, but he was not.

So instead he fell to his knees at the edge of his bed, and prayed to God. Three Lord's prayers and ten hail Mary's. Even then he still felt horridly sinful.

The exact moment he'd awoken after had been when his dream self was awash in glorious pleasure, kissing and caressing the golden girl, and he'd even called her his precious girl. His dream self was certainly much freer and not confined by his real world choices and career.

If only one could stay in dreams and only return to the real world as called upon, like the reverse was true.

He sighed deeply and made for the shower. It would not hurt to be certain that he'd washed away any and all impurities. There would be no need to make a record of _this_ dream in his journal.  


***

Had he not been a godly man, he might have attempted to avoid his confession booth, for after the encounter in town with the girl he was certain was inspired by his dreams and had been visiting him numerous times to confess the most menial of sins.

His traitorous heart leapt as he considered what she might tell him today. 

"Good afternoon my child."

He didn't really know why he kept saying that, now that he knew she was anything but a child.

A blossoming young woman who surely had suitors that lined up a mile down the road to catch a glimpse of her working at the shop. Perhaps they even visited the shop just to see her.

He smiled to himself as he thought of how the shop owner might react to discovering a beautiful woman was the only reason he was being kept in business.

"Bless me father for I _have_ sinned."

Her emphasis caught his attention and he coughed slightly before replying,

"Tell me your sins."  
  
"I have found myself looking with lust. I have been unable to focus completely on my daily tasks, so distracted am I by my own thoughts. I know it is wrong. I know it is futile. But they will not go away no matter how hard I wish them to."

Father Smith blinked rapidly and despite the coolness of the afternoon air he felt himself growing warm.

Just as he had the other day picking up the candles the parish had requested him do.

A finger inched its way between his collar and his neck, and he gasped for breath, hoping he hadn’t been too loud.

"What sort of thoughts?"

He knew she didn't need to specify, but he found himself burning with curiosity. 

What man had captured her attentions so firmly that her mind was bewitched nearly as much as men could be by women?

"He is someone I used to know. I don't think he feels anything like I feel for him. He can't possibly...but it's very hard to keep my thoughts pure around him, and even when apart from him."

Father Smith felt confused,

"How could he not? You are a beautiful, intelligent, and hard working young woman. From what I've observed, any man in this town would be blessed to have your favor."

Behind the screen, he could have sworn she heard her gasp in surprise.

"You've been watching me?"

Father Smith felt himself blush, and he made a mental note to ask for forgiveness for prying into her personal life later.

"I only meant that I merely observed you briefly during my visit to your shop. But I would never dare to assume I knew all that you are."

"You are too kind Father. I wish the man I want could feel as I feel."

He gulped,

"Why couldn't he?"

She sighed, clearly distraught,

"It would be immoral."

"Is he married? Or betrothed to another?"

"No."

"I'm afraid that I cannot imagine what power on earth could keep you apart."

"His own will."

Father Smith leaned back, and attempted to keep his heart rate down. The pounding had filled his ears as she spoke of the man she was suffering sinful desire for and had not let up. It was so quick it nearly felt like a constant drumbeat. He could swear he heard a double beating. The fact was in his dreams, his other self possessed two hearts, for he needed one just to contain the love he felt for the golden girl.

"Give him time. Surely he will become aware of your feelings for him."

"What should I do if he doesn't?”

Father Smith sighed, his hand flying to his temples to massage the aching muscles,

"Pray. That's all any of us can do. I will say a prayer for you tonight. To free you from these feelings if they cannot be reciprocated. It is all in God's hands."

"Thank you Father. Am I free to go? Despite the sinful thoughts I've had?"

He coughed,

"Perhaps say one Lord's prayer. Then go and be blessed."

"Thank you Father."

Father Smith sighed as he heard her leave and he prayed briefly for himself, that he would be able to remain strong and steadfast in the face of such temptation.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose was immensely proud of herself, and somehow still in a kind of shock. She couldn’t believe how close to telling him she’d gotten.

She’d practically drawn the map to her heart, or something else and simply left off the X to mark the spot.

The era was dragging on Rose.

She was primed to go mad with lust at any opportunity to see the Doctor, and today, listening to his kind advice, she’d nearly ripped away the screen to get at him.

Why did he have to be so thick?

 _For god’s sake_ why did he have to be a priest?

A horrible thought struck her mind. Well, not horrible, but something that would make things that much more unbearable. What if this human version of the Doctor, being that he’d taken his vows already, was a virgin?

Obviously it was something that had never crossed Rose’s mind when she’d been traveling with him, but now with her heightened sense of temporary insanity, it had leapt to the front of the line.

She shivered as she prepared for bed, and she knew that there would be a whole new round of torturous dreams to follow that sort of sinful thinking.

To her delight, she was absolutely correct.

The next morning when she woke up, she was filled with determination. She’d danced around the idea for too long, there were only a couple weeks remaining for them to stay in hiding, and Rose wasn’t sure that the Doctor would still be as vulnerable or possibly open with how he felt about her once he returned to himself.

In preparation, Rose put on her nicest dress, and the lightest, so she wouldn’t feel overly warm or faint in case he turned her down. She knew it was highly likely he would send her away the second she tried anything, but she didn’t care.

She put her hair down, clipping back only the sides, so it fell in golden blond waves down her back and over her shoulders.

Finally after an hour, most of which was mental preparation, she was ready.

It was a quiet Saturday morning, and it seemed no one else was planning to head to confession until tomorrow, so Rose had the parish all to herself.

She was perfectly fine with that.

Her heart was pounding fast in her chest as she ascended the church steps, and though she wanted to pause with her hand on the door, she had no idea if anyone was watching, inside or out, so she decided against hesitating.

The church was silent as the grave as she entered, and the morning sun was just beginning to spill across the pews, dust motes visible in the sun beams.

“Hello?”

Rose hoped she wasn’t too absurdly early, and wondered if the Doctor still drank coffee, or if he’d given that up with his vows.

A door slammed open, and the resounding thud echoed around the large room.

Rose squinted against the bright sunlight to see the Doctor himself, clad in his usual robes, except they were dark brown today.

“Good morning. May I help you?”

Rose stepped closer to him, and a flash of recognition spread over his face,

“Miss Tyler. Do you usually come to confessional this soon? Surely you have not sinned beyond repair at this hour?”

Maybe he was joking, but Rose couldn’t help blushing. She sinned every time he crossed her mind, so if she could she’d spend all her days in that confession booth, if it meant being near him.

She smiled airily,

“Well no. But it has been three days since my last confession.”

He looked so beautiful in the morning light, she almost ran to him, hoping he’d automatically accept her into his arms, just like he had after their last adventure, before this dangerous side trip.

But that wouldn’t be proper.

“Best be getting to work then hadn’t I?”

He remarked, waving a hand towards the confessional booth, and Rose’s stomach flipped.

“Okay.”

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but it almost seemed like his gaze followed her all the way into the booth. The door shut behind her and then she was only inches away from him, a mesh screen all that was keeping them apart.

She could practically sense the tension. Even if it was all one sided.

She could also smell him. Whatever strange scent that was uniquely him, it had followed him from his Time Lord self into his human incarnation.

It was intoxicating to her.

***

Father Smith was shocked to find the blond girl, the shop girl, Miss Tyler practically waiting for him when he left his room to enter the sanctuary. She’d looked a bit like a lost angel, standing with the sun beams dancing in her golden waves, and wearing an all white dress. He’d averted his gaze as quickly as possible, but not soon enough to avoid seeing the white dress was not made of heavy cotton, and he could practically see her legs and the outline of her figure through it.

He was torn between chastising her, as he should, and looking back. But he fought the urges with all his strength, and merely watched her face.

She had the kindest smile, and when she vanished into the other side of the booth, he was almost grateful for the wall between them.

It was the only thing stopping him from verging on breaking every vow he’d ever taken.

“Please tell me your sins.”

He found himself growing impatient to hear her speak, so he skipped over the usual greeting, considering how they’d already met outside, and he sat back, eager to listen.

“Forgive me father, for I have _sinned._ ”

This time the emphasis was clearly on the noun, and he sat forward, infinitely curious as to why she’d spoke that way.

“Explain it to me as best you can.”

“I’ve gone and fallen in love with the man who cannot love me. Now I know I shall die alone.”

Father Smith would have chuckled, but he had no wish to make her feel as if he was laughing at her,

“Nonsense. No one like you will die alone.”

“When you can’t be with the person you love, it feels like you’re already dead.”

He frowned,

“Tell me something.”

“Yes Father?”

“What is it that is keeping you and your love apart?”

A choked sob arose from the other side of the screen, and he pressed his hand to it, unthinking.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you any questions. This is your time to confess only what you want to me.”

A hand met his own on the other side of the screen, and he was struck by its feverish warmth.

“Thank you. But there’s no point in lying to you. It’s you after all.”

He frowned, but didn’t withdraw his hand,

“What do you mean?”

The hand vanished from under his, and he missed the warmth instantly.

But then his door was opening, and Miss Tyler was staring at him, eyes wide, and those sinfully pink and pouty lips parted,

“I’m in love with you.”

Father Smith floundered.

“But-but-but that’s impossible. You can’t-we can’t-I-?”

Rose crept inside and gently pushed him back to a sitting position, where he stayed, frozen with a mix of shock and awe.

Something about her was so enchanting, and then he realized the truth. In this light, in this sort of moment, she was his dream girl. The golden girl who haunted his sleeping hours.

It was _her_.

He’d only just come back to his senses when he realized her hands had never left him. Her touch was burning a path of fire through his clothing, but only in his mind. Arms entwined about his neck, and suddenly she was a breath away, mere centimeters from kissing him.

He should kiss her first, by all rights.

Wait a moment.

Kiss?

He couldn’t do this!

He was a priest, a man of God, and he’d barely been with the parish two months.

There was a special circle of hell for men like him. Men who took advantage of their confessors. But he wasn’t exactly attempting anything; he was simply trying to resist her.

Not that he really wanted to.

With barely a touch, and a couple fingers tracing over his temples, she was threatening to unleash his inner demons, long since buried. At least he’d thought.

He allowed himself only a moment to enjoy her ministrations, and then he would tell her to stop.

She’d nearly climbed on top of him, and was now kissing his jaw, inching dangerously close to his mouth, and he realized it had already been long past a moment, and he’d said not a word.

Oh God.

Oh God indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *monster truck rally voice*  
> ARE YOU READY FOR THE SMUT?  
> CAUSE HEEERE IT COMES!  
> heh comes.  
> yeah.


	7. Chapter 7

Rose couldn’t believe her sheer luck. She’d found the fastening to his door, and finally done it. She’d nearly straddled him inside his half of the booth, and he still hadn’t kicked her out, or really said anything that sounded remotely close to a protest.

He’d moaned when she ran a hand through his hair, but oh how she’d been aching to do that for months now.

She dared to kiss him, along that perfect cheekbone, and down his jaw line, and was seconds from planting one on him, when she felt him come to life beneath her.

His hands tenderly gripped her hips, but he was shoving her back!

“What? Wait. No please.”

The words fell from her lips, and she knew they sounded desperate, but that was what he’d made her.

“Miss Tyler, you should go. I would hate for your reputation to suffer.”

She heard his voice break, and she knew he was only thinking of her, and there was no power behind the things he said.

“Never mind me. If you don’t kiss me in a minute, I think I may die.”

How could he resist a challenge like that?

Rose smirked inwardly, and then gasped for air as he took her breath away.

His lips pressed to hers, and his hands tightened on her waist, fisting handfuls of her dress, and no longer attempting to dislodge her.

When his tongue snaked out between his lips to trace along the seam of her mouth, she opened it wantonly.

She’d never dreamt the Doctor would be an expert kisser, but then again, she’d never had the occasion to ask.

She tilted her head to allow him better access, and she felt him shift underneath her.

Her cheeks flushed at the implication, and a hand broke free from holding his neck to explore.

He broke away from the kiss the instant her hand traced over his brown trousers.

“Miss Tyler, please. We should stop. Think of where we are!”

His voice was a hushed whisper, and Rose nearly rolled her eyes at his ridiculous formal use of her name, and the fact that he’d already kissed her so much her lips were swollen, did he really think a bit more was going to keep him in the clear with God?

“It’s Rose if you please, Father. Why don’t you tell me how best I can attain eternal life? I’m a good listener. You’ve been doing it for me, so I think it’s time I return the favor yeah?”

She pulled away from his arms, and slowly shifted down until she was kneeling at his feet. She was certain if he was indeed a virgin, he would have no idea what was about to happen, and she rather liked that.

Her hands moved to the fastenings of his trousers, and when he made no noise, nor did he try to stop her, she continued.

***

Father Smith was sure that this was just another dream. He’d gone and done the rudest thing on earth, he’d fallen asleep during a parishioner’s confession, and clearly his mind had begun to wander.

Never mind the fact he could feel the hardwood of the booth making sitting uncomfortable, and never mind the fact he’d been listening to his dream girl confessing in the first place before this dream started.

When he felt the cool breath from her mouth drift across his bare skin, he nearly cried aloud. He’d never touched himself, not once. It had been considered a sin, and as soon as he’d taken his vows, he’d never given that act a thought.

Even after all the dreams he’d had of the golden girl, no, Rose, he’d never done it.

Suddenly he couldn’t think of a good reason for that.

She hadn’t even touched him and he felt like a coil primed to spring.

When her hand made contact with his flesh, he swore.

“My my, I’ve never heard a priest curse before. It must be so liberating. Say it again. Please?”

Surely now she was just teasing him? If this was a dream, it must be nearly over. He would awaken frustrated, and aroused beyond compare, and be forced to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t want that.

He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Waking up alone, to find this all an illusion, or if this was real, what madness had descended over them both to bring this about?

Then her smiling lips were kissing him, and his eyes fell closed, unable and uncaring whether it was real any longer.

If it was a dream, he never wanted it to end. If it wasn’t, he’d die content.

She hummed something thoughtfully as she sucked on the tip delicately, oh so delicate. His hands found the edge of the bench, and she could see his knuckles turn white as he grasped it for support.

She smiled to herself, and brought up her hand to trace the soft skin just above his cock, before moving it down to cup his balls. She wasn’t quite sure how much experimenting he’d done, for a virgin, so she was trying to test the waters. When he groaned in reply to that, she grinned around the tip of him before sliding him further into her mouth. Above her other hand which was consistently stroking his shaft, there were dark curls, and they were dampened with sweat. She knew that her own nether regions were surely as wet if not wetter, and she prayed to any heathen gods that were listening that he’d not send her away before she saw just how clever he could be with his fingers as a human.

With a final lick and a stroke above where she tasted him, she felt his muscles tensing, and she looked up to watch his face as he came.

His jaw dropped, as he remained silent, but the effect on her was extraordinary.

She saw every emotion as it crossed his face, and the last one was what made her feel truly blessed. Ironically, when he surrendered himself to sin, he looked the most happy.

She sat back on her heels, and wiped her mouth off briskly, and tried not to look too smug. He’d been a delight, and she wasn’t going to tease him about how delicious he’d tasted. Somehow she suspected he’d had exotic fruit for breakfast, but she didn’t want to assume.

“Father, I feel like I’ve seen the light. Is this what eternal salvation tastes like?”

She couldn’t resist, and the look of horror that flickered over his face was completely worth it.

“Oh my god. What have I done?”

He uttered in a whisper, even as she carefully tucked him away, tying his trousers back up, before slipping back beside him on the narrow bench, and leaning her head upon his shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything. I did all the work. That’s hardly fair now isn’t it? What say you give me a hand?”

Rose grabbed his hand that was covering his mouth in dismay, and guided it to where her dress had ridden up on her thigh. She’d been grateful for the soft cotton to kneel on, but now, it felt like a hindrance. It was in the way of things.

She wanted him to touch her, everywhere and all at once, as much as he could. She was practically tingling with arousal. She needed him.

“I don’t think-?”

Rose shook her head,

“No you’re right. You think too much. Shut up for once and kiss me.”

The way he looked at her, mouth agape and still flushed from his orgasm, it was a wonder she’d held out this long from ravaging him.

She didn’t bother to watch his blue eyes to see if he was going to do it, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, this time in a much slower, sensuous dance than before. She’d been hurried and frantic, and now she needed him to take his time.

His hand followed where she led it obediently, and when his rougher calloused fingers brushed over her bare thighs she jumped slightly, involuntarily startling him.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”

She murmured to him, the words vanishing into the ether as she resumed the kiss. When his hand finally reached where she needed it most, she knew it might be shocking to him how wet she was, but she didn’t care.

While she rubbed concentrated circles on her clit with his fingers, she also guided his thumb to brush over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh Doctor…”

It came out in a strained moan before she could stop herself, but thankfully he hadn’t heard, and he gave no indication of stopping.

She decided on biting her bottom lip to keep from saying the wrong name again, and when he moved his fingers _just there_ like that, she was falling over that edge, whiteness creeping over her vision, and then she was shaking in his arms.

For his part, he’d done extremely well. He’d never seen a woman climax, nor imagined how lovely it could make an already beautiful creature.

“Oh Rose. You’re exquisite.”

She licked her lips and laughed nervously,

“Is that so? You’re not so bad yourself. Do you want to get out of here? Go someplace we can, uh, take off more clothing?”

She snuck a peek at his hair, which had been completely wrecked by her touch and stifled another laugh. He still looked dazed, but was in no position to argue.

“Your guardian-?”

Rose shook her head,

“Out for the weekend. Loved a good shopping adventure.”

He smiled shakily at her, and took her hand, sheepishly letting her lead him outside the cramped booth into the open sanctuary.

He almost felt as if he needed to beg for forgiveness right then and there, but Rose’s steady pressure of her hand over his gave him pause. He’d follow her anywhere, and now he was following her straight to hell, in all likelihood. But he didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should probably warn that this is the truly nsfw part of the story, and plot takes over the rest of the journey ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Since there was no actual guardian to worry about walking in on them, Rose insisted that the Doctor stay the afternoon with her. She’d always wanted to cuddle with him, and fall asleep in his arms. No matter the situation, had she foreseen something like this occurring, she’d likely have laughed the informer silly.

But now?

She was listening to the golden locket whisper to her it was almost time, while the Doctor lay beside her, deep asleep, the only other sound in the room the constant lull of his breathing.

She couldn’t help but worry about him. Though they didn’t have much more time to wait before resuming their adventures, and the life she once knew and loved, she wondered if he would get in any trouble for this.

Were Time Lords allowed to have sexual affairs with companions, if they weren’t themselves?

Would he even remember a single moment of his time spent as a human? She wasn’t sure if she wanted that to be true, or if it would only make things that much harder.

Watching him from across the library, standing at the console, back in his usual attire, blissfully unaware of just intimately she knew him. She shivered. That would be torture. She’d go mad all over again. If he remembered and felt taken advantage of, she wouldn’t know what to do.

She supposed she could always argue and criticize the TARDIS for his career in the first place. After all, no one wanted fruit unless it was perfectly forbidden.

How forbidden had he been?

***

Father Smith awoke in a foreign room, under a different ceiling and surrounded by soft skin. His eyes snapped open and he realized he was lying in bed with Rose. He swallowed, and from that moment he could no longer consider himself a man of god. For if the god he was serving couldn’t allow such connections between two strangers, what sort of deity was he?

John endeavored to apologize to the clergy first thing that day, but tell them he was resigning. It might be impossible, but he didn’t care. When Rose shifted and snuggled closer to him, he smiled lazily. This had to be what they called Heaven on Earth, for how else did one describe it?

He lifted a hand to stroke her forehead, feeling her pulse beating a normal flutter beneath his touch, and when his fingers brushed blond strands away from her face, her eyelids began to open.

“Good morning.”

Rose shook gently with laughter, and licked her lips before replying,

“Don’t you want to finish that sentence? Shall I begin my confession with how I helped you see the face of god?”

Although he might have once thought it was too early for cheekiness, when it came to Rose Tyler, he decided to forgive her. She was much too beautiful and the way she was wrapped around him was much too comfortable.

“I think God has a pretty good idea of the sins you’ve been committing.”

He was smiling as he said it, but Rose still pouted at him.

“I’m sorry. I’ve gotten you in a lot of trouble haven’t I?”

John shrugged,

“Probably. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Rose grinned at him, before sliding up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I know it. You’re the bravest man I know. As much as love kissing you, I could do with some real breakfast. What would you like me to make? I’ve got toast, and eggs, and maybe some oatmeal.”

John leaned up to kiss her once again,

“I think I can do it. I’d like to. You stay here as long as you wish. I’m used to being up fairly early.”

Rose writhed against the sheets,

“But if I stay here, I could fall asleep again, dreaming of you.”

“I thought you were hungry.”

“I just wanted you to get out of bed and walk around my room like this.”

Her hands had been wandering while she spoke, and she punctuated her sentence with a brush of fingers over his softened member.

That was rapidly becoming not the case, and he felt himself flush.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Rose sighed,

“It’s such a shame that no one ever told you how beautiful you are. Because you’re more than handsome. You’re truly gorgeous. How on earth did god expect to keep you to himself?”

John flushed again, and stood up, inadvertently obeying her secret wish, and she watched him walk towards the door unashamedly,

“I suppose he had something better in store for me when he brought you to my church steps.”

Rose grinned at him before moving around to lounge atop the covers, exposing her bare back to him, and lifting a foot in the air to lazily kick in his direction,

“Too much talk of god makes me want to do bad things. You’d better get dressed and get out there, lest I drag you back into my den of iniquity.”

She stuck her tongue between her teeth as she smiled, and swore she saw his eyes widen as he looked at her.

“Very good. Yes.”

He coughed, and moved back towards her only to snatch his robe off the end of the bed, slipping it on like a dressing gown, and she fought the urge to giggle. He looked positively delicious in just that holy robe, and with his hair tousled from sleep and sex, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever let him get dressed again, at least while he was in her presence.

But once he’d gone downstairs to the kitchen, Rose lost herself in thought.

How would she go back from this?

She wasn’t sure anymore.

***

When Rose descended from her room, half dressed in a light yellow dress with a scandalously low cut neckline, John nearly dropped the coffee cup he’d just poured for her.

That would have been an unpleasant wake-up call, but he caught himself just in time.

“Hello.”

He breathed, and she gave him that dazzling smile again,

“Hello yourself. What have you made me?”

“Fresh coffee and it seems you’re out of sugar, so I hope you don’t mind it black.”

The face she made threatened to make him laugh.

Rose Tyler did not drink black coffee.

“You know, I think I’m good. Why don’t you drink it?”

John gulped, and looked at the delicate china cup, before setting it down safely on the table.

“Very well.”

Rose slipped her arms around him, and squeezed gently,

“I’m sorry, I’m horrible aren’t I? I’ll drink a little bit. We can share it. Alright?”

John reached up to cradle her face in his hands, and he didn’t notice how her expression momentarily looked lost,

“You’re not horrible. You’re perfect.”

He kissed her forehead, and gently moved away, leaving her drowning in want.

Rose exhaled slowly and sat down at her kitchen table, hoping that he’d not noticed how she’d nearly called him Doctor when echoed the exact thing he’d done just before becoming human.

Except the Doctor had kissed her goodbye, he’d been making certain she was going to be safe, even without him to protect her. She was protecting _him_.

“Is everything alright?”

He’d noticed her silence, and Rose smiled up at him,

“Yes of course. Did you sleep well? Despite, well…” she trailed off, uncertain if she’d had the usual nightmares last night, while in his arms. She thought not. Something about his presence was infinitely comforting and soothing to her.

John moved to stand behind her, his hands tracing over her shoulders before squeezing the stiff muscles.

“I have not slept so well in my life before last night. I never could have imagined what I had been missing.”

He planted a kiss on the top of her head, and she hummed contently. She would miss this.

She reached for her locket, but remembered she’d removed it the night before, and it was likely still on the nightstand. She didn’t mind. She didn’t want to hear how little time she had left. She didn’t want the judging whisper of the Doctor distracting her away from a single instant.

“What should we do today? I know Sunday is probably your busiest day, but now?”

John looked thoughtful,

“Well once I give them the bad news, I believe I’m yours for the rest of the day. What do you usually do with your free time?”

Rose blinked, and the TARDIS flashed across her mind’s eye. She needed to go back and get a new book, but she couldn’t take the Doctor there _now_ , as he was.

“Nothing special really. Walk around town, visit the park. We could take some bread and feed the ducks.”

John smiled at her,

“Sounds lovely. Wait for me here? I’ll take care of things at the church first.”

Rose nodded.

“Couldn’t keep me away.”


	9. Chapter 9

John would have wiped his forehead off out of sheer relief, if he hadn’t felt just a slight bit of guilt. The parish had been so kind to take him in after the accident that had killed his family and practically raise him by the power of God alone.

But now he wasn’t alone in the world, and he’d discovered just how blessed he could be. As he walked past the shop where Rose usually worked, he could have sworn he saw the shop master look over at him, but when he raised his hand in greeting, the man studiously avoided his gaze.

‘Strange.’ He thought to himself.

He approached him and called out a greeting.

“Good afternoon sir. Have you had a quiet Sunday?”

The man jerked his head towards John and smiled, but it looked forced,

“Yes. Father is it? Have you seen Rose today? Please tell her if you see her that I’d like her to come in early Monday morning.”

John frowned,

“Any particular reason?”

The man shrugged,

“I just want to get a good head start on the week’s organizing. She has a great mind for figures, so I know we’ll get done faster together.”

Something about the way he phrased it made John feel a twist in his gut. As if the man wanted to monopolize his time with Rose, despite the fact he was her boss, and could set her schedule however he deemed it most helpful for his business.

John simply nodded, and smiled,

“I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

The man reached out to shake John’s hand, and he took it, even though he couldn’t wait to let go.

“I’m Harry by the way. Harry Saxon. Pleasure to meet you.”

John racked his brain, but he couldn’t find that he knew the name, although he’d certainly been around as long as the shop had.

“The same to you. Good day.”

The entire encounter left John with a funny feeling in his stomach, and he hoped Rose would be able to set him at ease when he gave her the message from her boss.

He arrived back at her home, and knocked a bit harder than he intended on her front door. He’d forgotten he didn’t have a key, naturally, why would he?

The door lurched inward, and Rose’s smiling face appeared,

“How’d it go?”

John grimaced,

“Do you want me to lie?”

Rose’s face fell,

“No. If you want to sin, I’ve got a much better idea of how you could.”

John fought back a laugh,

“It went swell. But I do need to speak to you urgently.”

Rose nodded, before moving back out of the doorway,

“Please come in.”

***

Once safely inside, the Doctor had relayed to her what her boss had told him. Rose thought it was rather sweet the way he was concerned for her, but what she found troubling was the fact he’d spoken to the Doctor at all.

They’d barely met for a few moments two weeks earlier, and Rose was always wary of anyone who took notice of the Doctor, especially considering he wasn’t himself.

For a second, her mind flashed to the panic filled dream she’d had a few days back, she’d been faced with the worst situation possible, the Doctor injured in his human form, and her locket missing.

Now she wondered if she needed to bring him back. Was it too soon?

Was her boss someone she couldn’t trust?

The Doctor was speaking to her, and she was lost in the folders of her memory.

“I’m sorry?”

He took her hand, and pressed a kiss to it, and she blushed, despite the innocence of the gesture,

“You looked a million miles away. I just asked if there was anything wrong?”

Rose shook her head,

“No of course not. Shall we have a picnic under the stars tonight? Or do I have to sneak you out myself, and confess about it later?”

The Doctor looked startled, and Rose realized the slip.

“I uh, don’t actually live with a guardian. I live by myself. Sorry. That was another lie.”

The Doctor sighed, and then patted her hand with his,

“It’s perfectly alright. I just feared that you wouldn’t be safe enough if you were on your own. But as I know you now, I’m certain you’re quite capable.”

Rose grinned at him,

“I’m not alone now. I got to say this place is much better with two.”

The Doctor rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and nodded,

“I’m honored you think so highly of me.”

“How could I not?”

***

When Rose left for work Monday morning, she was delighted to be able to kiss the Doctor goodbye, and know that he would be there when she returned.

She fingered the golden locket as it lay in between her breasts, just beside her heart. She smiled as she heard the whisper of the Doctor’s voice, assuring her it was nearly time. She didn’t dread it anymore. She was going to make him listen, and acknowledge that all he had felt as a human could not be possibly ignored.

She was humming as she walked into the shop, and didn’t even notice that Harry was not in sight.

“Good morning.”

She called out airily, and as the front door swung shut, she jumped, realizing he’d been standing just behind it.

“Oh, hello. You startled me.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, mostly to unconsciously stroke the locket, and ensure it was still there. Harry looked rather strange, and she frowned, until she noticed what he was holding. It looked suspiciously like a weapon the Doctor would know about.

“What have you got there? A price tag gun?”

She tried to keep it light, but she could feel a tingling in her sixth sense, something that told her she needed to _leave_ pronto…but why couldn’t she move?

“I’m sorry Rose. I really am. But you have something I need. The only way to get the chance to speak to your friend is if I do this.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and she heard the whispering from the locket grow louder, but her hand pressed against it, attempting to muffle the noise, not that he could possibly hear.

“What are you talking about?”

Harry smiled, and Rose felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise,

“I guess you’re right. You were running too fast for me to see your face. Nor could you see mine. But I heard it. I heard the TARDIS, and I followed the song of the universe. I can _smell_ him on you. I know you’ve been with him. He’ll come again, he’ll come for you. Now sleep well, and when you wake, maybe I’ll let you live as my pet.”

The gun rose and fired into her chest before she could protest, and the last thing Rose saw was his smug face.

How she wished she’d run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER OF doom


	10. Chapter 10

John Smith wasn’t concerned yet. No. When Rose had been asked to come to work early, he hadn’t wanted to assume it meant she’d get done early in return.

That was paranoid of him. To think she might be avoiding him. Or perhaps she’d gotten delayed by talking with a customer on the way out of the shop.

All these excuses and more ran though his mind with every passing moment. By the time the sun had set, and he had grown completely impatient, he decided to go visit the shop. He pulled on his cloak and brushed his hair back from his face, hoping he looked the picture of authority, despite lacking any true power.

His hand lifted to knock sharply on the shop door, and he was severely disturbed to see how all the lights were off inside and there was not a sign of Rose.

A swift pounding on the door later, and it opened a crack to reveal the same light brown haired man he’d met before, Harry, Rose’s boss.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

The man looked confused, and John felt sheepish. It was entirely possible he had just missed Rose, or she’d gone out a back door, and was moments from finding him and chastising him for worrying.

“I was wondering if you’d seen Rose? I seem to have misplaced her.”

Cracking a joke was hardly the best thing he could do, but it helped disguise his rising panic.

The man shrugged, and held the door open wider,

“I haven’t seen her since this morning, but you’re welcome to look around if you’d like.”

John frowned, and only stepped halfway inside,

“But…do you mean she didn’t stay for her work duties?”

The man slinked past where John stood, and he suddenly noticed just how cold and damp the air in the shop felt. Nothing like it had a week previous. It was as if death itself hung in the room.

“Do you recognize this?”

John looked away from the shelves, where he’d been half expecting a scraggly hand to appear from behind, and he caught a glimpse of gold reflecting the dim light from the setting sun.

Harry was holding up a necklace, on the end of which hung a familiar heart shaped locket.

John felt his blood run cold.

“Yes.” His voice was a harsh whisper, and the shop master’s face twisted into a dangerous smile.

“She was most emphatic that I not take it. I wonder what the reason for that is. Care to enlighten me…Father? If that really is your name.”

The man’s taunts held no interest for John, but the suggestion of Rose being in any sort of danger made him spring into action.

“What’ve you done with her? Where is she?”

John had leapt for Harry, his hands rising to grip the man’s lapels, and he yanked him halfway across the room to slam him against the counter, driving the breath from him.

Harry’s face was still smug, and he stared John down,

“Nothing too terrible yet. You know, she did refuse to say my name. I think she wants to maintain this illusion. But tell me Doctor, what’s it like living among the apes, as one? Is it a riot? Or is like being a bird, with clipped wings?”

John wasn’t sure what the man was talking about, but since it had nothing to do with Rose’s whereabouts, he wasn’t interested in listening.

“You will take me to her, and if she’s been harmed…”

Harry laughed, a bone chilling sound that echoed about the room,

“You’ll do what? You’re powerless. You’ve only got your strength, and in this form, it’s hardly much to boast about. You’ve no idea how truly trapped you are now. Stuck in time, without your soul, and your machine. You’re at _my_ mercy.”

John could almost feel his own fury radiating off of his skin, and he swore he saw red,

“No one can take my soul from me. Whatever madness you are babbling about, I have no care. Prove to me Rose is safe, and I will think about leaving you alive.”

Harry lifted his hands beside his head, and whistled low under his breath,

“Such violence from you Doctor? I’m touched.”

John narrowed his eyes at the man,

“Why do you keep calling me this? I’m a priest not a doctor. Now I’m not even that. I’m only a man, who has nothing to lose.”

Harry looked as if he might be frightened a bit, but then he grinned again, and John knew it had all been an act.

“Get this locket open for me, and then I’ll think about letting you _both_ go.”

John’s gaze slipped over to the golden necklace, and he could have sworn he heard a voice that sounded much like his own speaking from it.

It said,

“Now!”

John grabbed the locket from Harry’s hand, and flicked it open without a second thought.

The blast of golden light from within rose like an inferno that threw him away from Harry, and knocked them both out with the force of the blast.

***

Rose heard the sound of the explosion, even from the basement of the shop, and she prayed that the Doctor would be alright. She hated how she’d been forced away from the locket, and been unable to help return the Doctor to himself safely.

When she heard footsteps on the stairs leading to where she was sitting, bound at the hands and feet, she was scared at first that it had all gone wrong.

“Rose? Are you alright?”

The voice set her at ease immediately, before making her heart race for a different reason. This was not John, it was the Doctor. He was back, and she’d not gotten to tell the man she’d fallen in love with goodbye.

Tears sprung from her eyes, and he doubtlessly assumed they were due to relief at being rescued. Even as he freed her from her bindings she didn’t stop crying.

When they returned to the TARDIS, she still couldn’t keep the sobs quiet. She didn’t even ask what happened to Harry, or as she’d learned too late, the Master, as he liked to be called.

The Doctor kept his usual babbling to a minimum, and only mentioned that they’d be stopping by Gallifrey to drop off the Master, to be dealt with by the High Council.

Rose tuned most of it out, and begged off to her room, clutching her hands to her head, hiding her tears and the permanent flush of shame she knew surely had be on her face.

The Doctor let her go, and though she didn’t see, watched her go with a mournful expression.

When the Locket had been opened, a strange reverse vortex of power had occurred. The Doctor had been returned to his body, but the Master’s essence had filled the void left behind in the device.

The man who was currently cuffed to the jump seat was the human lie that the Master had been attempting to portray.

The Doctor almost felt bad for him, but he knew once he’d faced the council, any and all confusion would be cleared up. The list of crimes that the Doctor’s former friend had committed would possibly be enough to cost him his remaining regenerations, and any lifespan left would be spent in prison.

The Doctor set course for his home planet, and looked over at the library, wishing Rose was there, looking back at him, her face alight with its usual joy and optimism.

Instead his lovely companion was in great emotional distress, according to the TARDIS, and he feared she may never leave her room, and return to the console room and face him.

He couldn’t say he blamed her.

He could see everything. All that was, all that had occurred, and every single memory his human self had had, just lying inside his mind, ready to be flipped through like a picture book.

Some memories were more clear than others, and some he would gladly look back upon.

Others, not so much.

The utter fury he’d felt upon discovering the Master’s horrible plot to take Rose, the sense of desperation at the sight of her locket in the Master’s hands, all moments he would gladly forget.

But other things crept up on him, and left him in an emotionally compromised state.

How soft Rose’s lips had felt against his, the way she’d looked at him, the exact instant before she’d entered the booth, intent on fulfilling her own desires, but secretly his own.

Now he could also see just what she’d been dreaming about, and he knew why his own dreams as a human had been so confusing and haphazard.

She’d touched him so deeply, how could he have completely forgotten her, even if his consciousness had been locked away?

It would take more than that to erase Rose Tyler from his mind.

***

Rose felt as if she’d been bled dry. The truth was much simpler. She’d given her heart to someone who didn’t exist. Why should she bother being surprised she’d not gotten it back?

She wasn’t sure why she was so hung up on it. Traveling with the Doctor had never been about her attraction for him. They’d been in a few tough spots, sure. There’d been a couple times she’d wished she’d told him how she felt, yes.

But this topped them all.

The only thing she wanted now was a good night’s sleep, and a hot bath. Maybe even a return trip to home to see her mum.

She fought back a laugh, despite her somber mood.

As if seeing her mum would really help. It’d just be back to the old “When are you gonna get a new job?” After all, once she’d gone off with the Doctor without giving notice to Henriks, that opportunity had been pretty much kaput.

Unless she asked the Doctor to take her back to that exact day, just after she’d left with him.

Could that be possible?

It was a time travel machine after all.

She decided to quit moping about and be a big girl and ask him.

It was a quick walk out to the library, and just past that stood the Doctor, gazing up at the time rotor, as if he was hypnotized.

“Doctor?”

He glanced up and turned around, spotting her instantly. The smile that spread across his beautiful face almost broke her all over again, but she tried to remain strong.

“Yes Rose?”

“I’d like to go home…please.”

She’d tacked that on so as not to sound too eager, or come off as rude. She had been avoiding him for the last few hours since they’d apparently left his home anyway.

She didn’t imagine the way his face fell, and how when he turned away from her, the room seemed to grow colder.

“Of course.”

Rose crept up beside the console, and plopped up on the jump seat.

“That’s it?”

The Doctor shook his head, and the echo of the smile flickered over his face,

“That’s what?”

“That’s all? You’re not going to ask me why? Ask me to stay?”

The Doctor’s eyes glanced to hers, and seemed to focus on her lips ever so briefly, before returning to back to her eyes.

“No reason. You seem set on what you want to do. I don’t want to argue, to push. I put you through a horrible ordeal, and for that I’m truly sorry.”

Rose leapt to her feet, and strode towards him, but somehow he anticipated her every move, and began to dance swiftly around the console, avoiding her at every chance.

“No Doctor. That’s not it. I’m not set. I just don’t know what you want. So I’m trying to be the better person.”

The Doctor frowned, and Rose felt a bit of triumph. So there was some regret to be found.

“Why do you want to know what I want? It’s not about me. It’s about you, having a good trip. Obviously you’ve not.”

Rose felt her lip tremble, and she fought back tears again,

“Doctor, I’ve had a marvelous time. I’ve seen worlds that are dead and gone, sunsets a thousand years before my time. I’ve walked beneath frozen waves as high as mountains. I’ve spent three months in the company of someone I treasure. So don’t think I haven’t had a good time. I just can’t pretend I don’t feel what I do anymore.”

The Doctor had stopped running, and was finally standing still, so she took the opportunity and closed the distance between them. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t try to move away.

“Rose…what are you saying?”

His voice sounded so hurt, and he looked so lost, she couldn’t keep from trying to reach him. A hand to hold. That’s what she was.

He took the hand she offered, and met her gaze,

“I’m saying that I love you. I can’t go on traveling with you if I’ve got to deny it. After _being_ with you like that, even if it wasn’t you, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see you the same way.”

The words stumbled off her tongue, but there they were.

She was prepared to pull back, to make a tactical retreat, but suddenly his fingers closed around hers, and he was tugging her hand, so she followed, and found herself in his arms, her face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Oh Rose…my precious girl. Don’t think that I am unable to feel just because I’m no longer a human. I’ll never be able to forget you, and your love for me is very humbling. I didn’t think I was worthy of it. I still don’t. But if you’ll let me, I’ll try to earn it any way I can.”

Rose’s eyes slipped closed, and she melted into his embrace.

“I can do that.”

“Do you still want to go home?”

Rose pulled back and looked at his face, as his hand moved up to stroke her cheek, she smiled,

“Maybe not just yet.”

“Bit more exploring to do still?”

Rose nodded,

“I think so.”

When he leaned forward and kissed her this time, she heard no singing, no whispering from a locket, it was all around her.

The TARDIS may have been making the music, or perhaps it was simply the force of their love, echoing across time and space.

***

**END**


End file.
